n from the leaders of the pilgrimage; but he seemed wishful
to procrastinate, hoping, perhaps, he should be spared the necessity of
any more direct treasonable demonstrations, by the timely submission of
the king; yet his aid was of too much importance to be neglected.

The stranger, on his introduction, was received with some ostentation,
and not a little ceremony. They were evidently unknown to each other;
but the keen glance of the abbot instantly detected the signal for some
secret message. Paslew was habited in the Cistercian gown, and scapulary
of white cloth. His eye was dark, but restless; his lips, drawn in, were
narrow and compressed, showing the curbed impetuosity of his spirit.
Either as a churchman or a warrior, he seemed fitted for daring
enterprise; yet was he of a wary and cautious bearing, a characteristic
which his monkish education had in all probability thrown over his
natural temperament. The attendants having departed, the stranger drew
an unsealed letter from his bosom.'

"A written message, my lord abbot, from the Abbot of Kirkstall. 'Tis now
for your reverence's private regard, afterwards at your discretion." The
abbot hastily glanced over this piece of quaint and formal latinity,
occasionally darting a rapid and penetrating look at his visitor.

"He says not aught regarding so goodly a messenger," said Paslew,
carelessly.

"I should have marvelled if he had," returned the other, with a
contemptuous smile. "He knew not of so important a personage when that
epistle was elaborated from his pen."

"How?" said the abbot, his features gathering into a portentous scowl.

"Nay, I beseech your reverence's grace, that you throw off all such
disturbed apprehensions; for in troth a messenger of my bearing and
capacity were worth a knight's ransom in these evil days, when the monks
may not abroad with safety."

"Speak out. Remember I have yet the power to punish both insolence and
treachery."

The abbot's lip curled upwards, pale and quivering with rage, not
unmixed with apprehension.

"Grammercy," said the stranger, with a provokingly careless expression
of cool and contemptuous defiance--"I cry you none--I am at present
nameless. To work, to work, lord abbot. Thou hast holden back too long;
and there is a shrewd suspicion abroad of thine integrity in the good
cause. Hold!" said he, rising, as the reverend prelate was on the point
of summoning his attendants; "I am not thy prisoner! Impotent, I w